


Gain and Loss

by Warpony



Series: Feral Echoes [4]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Illiterate Character, Kinship, Past Character Death, Shopping, Situational Mutism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-02-23 01:16:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23836762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warpony/pseuds/Warpony
Summary: The mandatory shopping installment and meeting a kindred spirit.* * * * *Part of a larger WIP involving a D&D Original Character and the Critical Role Mighty Nein.
Series: Feral Echoes [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711534
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Gain and Loss

Striking out on the road with the Nein as sellswords and mercinaries meant there was a genuine need for gear and supplies. Brunnera understood the value of knives and shields but other personal effects were strange to him. But he wasn't unwilling to learn, which absolutely thrilled Jester and Caduceus who swept him off on a whirlwind shopping spree to make sure he was completely kitted out. 

Which... according to the clerics... included clothes. Tones of brown and blue and purple were heaped on him; shirts, breeches, small clothes and socks, enough for a fair rotation. Looking for boots Brunnera stumbled on a form fitting, sleeveless leather jerkin that Caduceus casually referred to as a 'signature piece'. Brunnera didn't know what that meant but he was enamored with it almost instantly. Made in two tones of brown with a wide corsair collar, a single long line of clasps on one side of the chest and, much to his enjoyment, a hood and several hidden pockets. It had been meant for a goliath that never returned to retrieve it and with minor adjustments it suited Brunnera perfectly. The fighter was a little dazzled by the idea of actually owning something for himself that he chose and liked. It was novel. The same leathersmith was more than happy to outfit Brunnera with boots and belts and a fair sized travel pack that could be enchanted as a bag of holding some time down the road. But Brunnera refused to look into any kind of sashes and scarves that might help mask and hide the collar around his throat. He clung to Beau's sash stubbornly despite the clerics insistence for variety. 

Until he explained his attachment at least. The sash, given over so easily by the monk and so casually handled by any one of the Nein when it needed retying or tucking, was the first gift he'd recieved in his entire life. They dropped it after that. Though Jester had quietly snuck a few similar sashes of different colors into one of her own puschases. 

'Boring essentials' came along next. Cooking and sewing kits, a medical kit and when they explained the purpose of them, a diamond fit for Revivify. Jester dragged them to a bookstore, offering to buy Brunnera a journal to write in or any number of books, most of them smut. Brunnera confessed easily that he neither knew how to read or write and just as easily agreed to let Jester teach him. Jester took it as an opportunity to pick several new trashy romances, journals and sketchbooks to purchase. For the good of the party of course.

When it came to weaponry he was a bit more selective. Neither Caduceus or Jester got much in the fighter's way at a small armory where he traded away rusted, scavanged blades towards the purchase of a pair of sleek, broadblade Dao swords. Anyone smaller than Brunnera would have had difficultly handling both blades at once but they fit and moved easily in the fighter's grip, hewing through practice targets and dummies like butter. He considered a greatsword for awhile but put the idea aside for another day, adding a hand axe and two large daggers to his tatch instead. 

It was easy enough to say that Brunnera was a little lightheaded and giddy when he followed the clerics back to the inn, more than happy to carry the heavier of the purchases in addition to his own. Food, ink and paper, throwing stars, all wrapped in brown paper. 

The bouyant feeling had passed instantly when he saw the stranger hoovering with the rest of the Nein on their return. The stranger's attention snapped to him just as quickly. 

The wandering sister of the Mighty Nein was everything Brunnera recognized from the colosseum. A giant, barbarian warrior marked in charcoal and pigment, odd colored eyes, a mane of black and white hair, decked in armor and shouldering devastating greatswords. He'd fought many berserkers in his life, slain enough that he knew her to be one the instant he saw her. 

He'd puffed himself up instinctively. Taller than her naturally but his fur had fluffed a bit. He'd moved deliberately and stiffly. Posturing. Staying at the back of the two clerics as they rushed to greet the barbarian. 

He'd kept eye contact, not a common practice for him, as he offered a massive hand in greeting. 

Her almost whispered voice made his ears flick forwards, the air rushing out of his chest and the tightness in his spine and muscles going slack. Her tone was steady, underlying strength and power, but there was no mistaking the possible hidden gentle nature that slipped out in her words. A simple, soft 'hullo'. 

The fighter relaxed completely and gripped her hand gently. In turn he saw some of the tension drain from the Xhorhasian, a small pull of her lips into a bare smile. 

Brunnera tilted his head up in return, exposing as much of his throat as he was able between the collar and Beau's sash turned scarf. The fighter shut his eyes and gave a toothy grin, flashing rarely seen pointed canines. He chuffed in return, forgoing words for the moment. 

There was a great deal of subtle communication in that action. Trust. Acceptance. Submission. 

She seemed to understand it all and gave his forearm a reassuring pat before letting go of his hand.

Brunnera had never felt a kinship more with a creature than when he was introduced to Yasha Nydoorin. 

All to easy they fell in companionable quiet, balancing instinctively the way veterans of combat did. They had that same perchance to silence. Same observant nature. Same haunted look in their eyes. Same desire to protect their little group of assholes and misfits. 

They settled into unspoken agreement on marching orders, one of them always up front with whoever scouted ahead. The other at the rear, walking with whoever lagged behind. Watching the front. Watching the back. Occasionally rotating, orbiting the Nein protectively. 

They took watch together fairly often, not talking at all or quietly telling muted stories to one another. Some of them about themselves, so of them not meant to be but only thinly veiled. 

Brunnera told Yasha about the colosseum, some of the things he'd done then, the beasts and blood, the things he did now that he liked much better. 

Yasha told him about her tribe and the strangeness of Xhorhas that didn't seem all that strange to him. She didn't show him the book of flowers but she told him of it and he knew better than to ask to see it.

And she told him about Mollymauk Tealeaf.

Brunnera had difficultly believing in such a wonderous creature at first. It sounded like the kind of imaginary friends children came up with to comfort themselves. Colorful fortune tellers with gilded swords and covered in jewels. 

When Beau came to relieve them she carried on, talking quietly about Mollymauk, even pulling out the deck of tarot cards to show him. Though she didn't extend them for Brunnera to take one. 

He heard about the brief weeks of their companionship, the few years of it in the circus before, the curiousness of Mollymauk's resurrection and second life.

He, and Yasha for the first time, listened to Beau rasp out the circumstances of Mollymauk's death. The grief that came with it was visceral.

Brunnera grieved with them, feeling the eerie loss of something that had never been there but would have been loved and needed. That would have made life brighter and more bearable. He grieved for lost family he'd never meet.

 _Leave it better than when you found it._

Mollymauk's credo was like a living heartbeat in the Nein. Brunnera had heard it before, liked it, now it was endeared to his soul. 

Looking up towards the moons above the fighter silently promised Mollymauk to carry on that mantra and doubly promised to take care of the little family that he'd left all to soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Yanno I forgot what a rabbit hole it can be to try and pick a color pallet for a character and then what an even BIGGER rabbit hole it can be looking at costuming pieces and clothing designs from past eras. 
> 
> I forgot about leather jerkins, you guys. I _forgot_... 
> 
> Best I can describe what I'm going for is WWII Bucky Barnes meets Renaissance Festival meets swashbuckler. 
> 
> I tried hard not to lock Brunnera in with to much Mollymauk and Beau style stuff color and design wise but they did slip in. But purple and blue are rad and Chinese Dao broadswords are so stupid cool looking...
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy reading as much as I enjoy writing and then rereading these!


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